YOZGAD CAMP.
With our arrival at Yozgad was renewed many an old friendship, dating
back to the earlier days of the campaign in Mesopotamia; for, like
ourselves, the majority of the eighty officers whom we found there were
victims of the siege of Kut-el-Amara. A few days later about twenty
officers of the original camp were transferred to Afion-Kara-Hissar,
leaving us now a combined total of roughly 100 officers and 60
orderlies.
The "camp" occupied six detached houses, divided into two groups
of three houses each, the one on the western, the other near the
south-western limits of the town. With a single exception each house
stood in its own grounds, which comprised something under an acre of
garden apiece. These were in most cases planted with fruit trees, and
in all cases surrounded by high stone walls. The first comers had by
April 1918 converted these previously unkempt areas into flourishing
vegetable gardens. For our safe custody there were on the average two
sentries over each house; these had their sentry-boxes in the garden
or at the entrance to the enclosure wall. There was also a post on the
four-hundred-yard length of road which connected the two groups of
houses.
As had been our impression on arrival, the town of Yozgad could by no
manner of means be called picturesque. It is squalidly built on the
steep slopes of a narrow valley, surrounded on all sides by bare and
rugged hills. The larger houses, it is true, have a few fruit trees
in their gardens, and tall poplars line the river bank; the country
around, however, is destitute of trees except for a small pine wood on
the high ridge south of the town. The camp was both higher and less
accessible than any other in Turkey; for Yozgad stands some 4500 feet
above sea-level, and in the heart of the rugged mountain system of
Anatolia, seven days' march from the nearest railway station.
The town itself is said to have had a population before the war of
some 20,000 souls. At the time of our arrival it could hardly have
contained one-fifth of that number; for, shortly before the formation
of the camp in July 1916, most of the Armenians had been massacred;
and they had formed a large proportion of the inhabitants. Their shops
had been pillaged, and whenever there was a shortage of firewood the
Turks merely proceeded to pull down another of the Armenian houses,
which, as usual throughout Anatolia, were largely constructed of wood.
The crash of falling timber as a building was demolished was a sound
so common as to pass almost unnoticed by the prisoners. Of Turkish
brutality, however, we had an even more constant reminder than the
sound and sight of ruined buildings; for every day there were to be
seen numbers of Armenian children dying as they lay in the narrow
streets, starved, emaciated, and clad in rags. For us to provide
relief on the large scale required was impossible, owing both to the
difficulties of obtaining money and the necessity of screening our
philanthropy from the commandant and other Turkish authorities. To the
credit of the Turkish soldier be it said, however, that he at any rate
did not prevent us from helping these poor miserable creatures; and it
was thanks to connivance on the part of our sentries and escorts that
we were able towards the end of our time to give away money and bread
daily in the streets.
The White Paper published in November 1918 on the subject of the
Treatment of British Prisoners of War in Turkey describes the
commandant of the camp at Yozgad as a "Turk of the old school--polite,
honest, and silent." Silent, or, we would rather say, taciturn,
Kiazim Bey undoubtedly was, for it needed many applications before
an inquiry or request received an answer at all. Polite, too, for
when he did vouchsafe to reply he would promise almost anything; but
is it not known to those who have dealt with a Turk, albeit one of
the old school, that in his estimation a promise costs nothing and
involves no obligation of fulfilment? It is merely his method of
temporarily soothing your feelings, and is not this of the essence
of politeness? As to his honesty, if he did not loot our parcels or
steal our money, he was not averse from accepting a regular commission
from every shopkeeper who wished to supply his wares to the camp.
Even our sentries had to bribe him before they were allowed on leave.
Ten Turkish pounds, or an equivalent in kind, passed hands before a
fortnight's leave was granted.
The following story can be vouched for. One of our guard, when
desiring a holiday, turned up at the commandant's office, but he was
out. His son, however, a boy of fourteen, was there, and to him the
simple soldier gave his money to be handed on to Kiazim Bey. Such an
opportunity did not often occur; so the boy spent the rest of that
day gorging costly sweetmeats in the bazaar. After several days the
soldier made further inquiries about his leave, and the truth was out.
The story ends with a good beating for the boy and no leave for the
soldier. Another of our guards used to mend boots for us, but finally
gave it up, declaring openly that the commission demanded by his
commandant made it no longer worth his while.
By the time of the arrival of the party from Changri, a number of
so-called privileges had been granted by this polite, honest, and
silent old Turk--although, it must be admitted, rather in the spirit
of the unjust judge worried incessantly by the importunate widow. The
most useful of these concessions was the permission to go out coursing
on two days a week. The "Yozgad Hunt Club" boasted a pack of no less
than three couple of "hounds." These were of a local breed, and had the
shape of small and rather moth-eaten greyhounds, mostly, however, with
black, or tan and white, markings. Nevertheless, they were clean and
affectionate, and, thanks to the master and whips, became wonderfully
good coursers. Seldom did they fail to account for at least one hare or
fox between the hours of 4 and 9 A.M. each Monday and Thursday
in the spring and summer of 1918.
One exception we remember was the day when the master appeared for
the first time in a pink coat of local style and dye, and then we
drew blank. The field themselves were dazed, so the hounds had to be
excused. Some of the happiest recollections of our captivity are of
those glorious early mornings in the country, far away from the ugly
town which was our prison. Here for a few brief hours it was almost
possible to forget that we were prisoners of war, until reminded
that this was Turkey by the monotonous drawl of one of our greatest
exponents of the Ottoman tongue. Wafted on the soft morning breeze as
we wended our way back to bath and breakfast, would come at intervals
of half a minute some such sounds as those which follow: Er ... er ...
posta ... bou ... bou ... bourda ... er ... er ... aie ... der.... Such
fluency almost suggested that Turkish was a simple language, instead
of one of the most difficult in the world, second only, it is said, to
Chinese.
Although attempts were made to play football, no suitable ground
existed in or near Yozgad, and four-a-side hockey became the form
of recreation which for the majority in the camp provided the best
means of combining pleasure and hard exercise. Hockey was available
at any time of day, as the ground was within the precincts of the
camp, being in fact the lowest of a series of terraces in one of the
gardens belonging to our houses. It was a bare plot, with a hard but
dusty surface, and surrounded on three sides by stone walls: the area
available for play was, perhaps, the length of a cricket pitch and
about ten yards across, so that there was not room for more than a
total of eight players.
[Illustration:
_From a sketch by Capt. E. B. Burns, E. Kent Regt._
COUNTRY KNOWN TO THE LOCAL HUNT CLUB AS "HADES."]
The equipment consisted of a soft leather ball, and for each combatant
a stick made from selected pieces of firewood, shaped according to
fancy, subject to the finished article being passed through a 1½-inch
ring. The resultant game was always fast and often furious, its only
drawback as a means of training for would-be escapers being the not
inconsiderable risk of losing an eye, finger, or portions of an ankle
or knee. The excitement created by such matches as the old camp,
Yozgad, _versus_ the newcomers from Changri, 1st, 2nd, 3rd, 4th,
and 5th teams, reached at times a pitch rarely attained in the most
hotly-contested house-match at an English public school.
For those debarred for any reason from this strenuous form of exercise
there were walks each evening, except on hunting days and Wednesdays.
On the latter days there were, during the summer months, weekly picnics
in the neighbouring pine woods, to which about 50 per cent of the camp
would go.
During daylight intercommunication was allowed between the two groups
of houses: nominally an escort was necessary to accompany such visitors
along the intervening road, but in practice this rule was a dead letter.
So hard-won, however, had been these few privileges, that the prospect
of any one attempting to escape and thereby causing their suspension
was looked upon by the majority of the original camp almost with
horror. And this was not altogether without reason, for some of them
had gone seriously into the question of escape, and had come to the
conclusion that, from so hopelessly inaccessible a spot, all attempts,
at least without outside assistance, were doomed to failure. Those
of us who had come from Changri, however, were not likely to give
up our long-cherished hopes without a struggle, but in the meantime
kept our nefarious intentions to ourselves, except for half a dozen
Yozgad officers whom we knew for certain to be keen to escape. The
arrival of Cochrane had more than countered the additional difficulties
involved by our move from Changri to Yozgad. While at Kara-Hissar, he
had arranged a scheme with the powers that be in England by which a
friendly boat should remain off a certain point on the coast of the
Mediterranean for a definite number of days at the end of August 1918.
Cochrane now placed this scheme at the disposal of the Changri
division. There was some reluctance to give up old plans, but in
the end four parties decided to take advantage of "Rendezvous X,"
as Cochrane's meeting-place was called--suffice to say that it was
on the Adalian coast nearly due south of Kara-Hissar. Of these four
parties ours was one. Our route to the island of Samos--our original
scheme--would now be some 450 miles. Actually this was only 50 miles
farther than to Rendezvous X, for the only feasible route to the latter
was _viâ_ Kara-Hissar, owing to the desert and mountains which would
have to be crossed on a more direct route. Cochrane's scheme, however,
promised an almost certain ending to the march to any one who reached
the coast; whereas, even if we reached the western shore of Asia Minor,
we should still have the problem of getting across to the island, and
that from a coast which must inevitably be very carefully guarded.
Our six therefore decided to give up the old plan, and soon after
were joined by Cochrane himself and Captain F. R. Ellis, D.C.L.I.
This was a tremendous advantage to us, as Cochrane not only had the
experience so hardly gained by his previous attempt, but had actually
seen some of the country over which we should have to march if we
succeeded in passing Kara-Hissar. It was of course impossible for him
to do guide to all four parties, as large numbers marching together
would be immediately tracked; so he gave what suggestions he could,
and the other three parties were to make their way to the rendezvous
independently.
Our party therefore numbered eight, all of whom have now been
introduced to our readers. We were the largest, and may claim to have
been the most representative party, including as we did one naval
officer, one gunner, one sapper, one British Infantry, two Indian
Army, and two Territorial officers. The other three parties making
for Rendezvous X numbered in all nine officers and Gunner Prosser.
Besides these there were two parties having other schemes. The first,
consisting almost entirely of Yozgad officers, intended marching for
the Black Sea and crossing to Russia, the full facts of whose chaotic
state were not known to us at the time. There were six officers in
this party. Lastly, a party of two more officers determined to set
out eastward, and hoped to make their way into Persia.[8] There had
been three or four other officers beside these who had seriously
contemplated escape while at Changri, but who were now forced to change
their mind through sickness or temporary disablements, such as crocked
knees, &c.
The 26 starters--25 officers and 1 man--were scattered over five out
of the six houses comprising the camp. It was necessary, therefore,
for those in each house--in no case all of them members of the same
party--to devise their own particular means of getting out of the camp
precincts, and then for a committee composed of a representative from
each party to co-ordinate their respective schemes as far as possible.
The first thing was to settle on a definite date for the attempt. As
the majority were to make for Rendezvous X, to fit in with Cochrane's
prearranged scheme, the date had to be later in the year than had
been our idea while at Changri. It was decided that the night chosen
should be the one towards the end of July most suitable as regards
the moon. To enable the members of the various parties to join up at
some convenient local rendezvous, and then put as great a distance as
possible between themselves and Yozgad before the following dawn, the
ideal was for the moon to rise an hour or so after we had all left
our houses. Great credit is due to Captain T. R. Wells for correctly
computing the times of rising and setting of that irregular planet. The
only material available was a Nautical Almanac some four years old.
From his predictions, the 30th July was eventually fixed upon as the
best night. The moon would rise about 10.30 P.M., and 9.15 was
fixed upon as a suitable time for all to leave their houses--if they
could. This meant all would have been present at the evening roll-call,
which took place during dinner at about 7.45 P.M.; and their
absence, if no alarm occurred, would not be discovered until the check
taken at dawn next day.
The advent of Cochrane to our party led to a reconsideration of the
whole question of the food and kit we should carry on our momentous
journey. His previous experience and that of Keeling's party was that
35 lb. was about as much as one could expect to carry across country
consistently with making reasonable progress. In the end, however,
we found that there were so many essentials that we should have each
to take about 43 lb., exclusive of the weight of packs, haversacks,
&c., to carry them. The following list gives some idea of our final
equipment. Each member of the party was to take the following:--
_Food_--
Sixty-eight biscuits, made by "Escapers Ltd.," five to the lb.
Six soft biscuits, four to the lb.
Sultanas, 4 lb.
Cheese, ½ lb.
Fresh meat (for the first two days only), ½ lb.
Rice, 2 lb.
Cocoa _or_ Ovaltine, 1 lb.
Soup tablets (Oxo), 12 cubes.
Chocolate, 1 lb.
Tea, ¼ lb.
Salt, about 1/8 lb.
Emergency ration of chocolate, Horlick's malted milk tablets, _or_
Brand's essence, about ½ lb.
_Clothing_--
Spare pair of boots, or several pairs of native sandals.
Spare shirt.
Towel.
Several pairs of socks.
Felt mufti hat or service-dress cap.
Vermin-proof belt.
Spare bootlaces.
Handkerchiefs (mostly in the form of bags round the food).
_Miscellaneous_--
Share of medicines, mainly in tabloid form.
One large and one small bandage.
Matches, two or more boxes, one being in a water-tight case.
Flint and slow-match cigarette lighter.
Cigarettes or tobacco, according to taste.
Soap, one piece.
String.
Mug and spoon.
Wool for repairs to socks.
Spare razor-blades.
Compass.
Clasp-knife.
Whistle.
Tooth-brush.
Comb.
Notebook and pencil.
In addition, the following were to be distributed in more or less equal
weights among the party as a whole:--
1 pair of field-glasses.
6 skeins of ¾-inch rope.
2 boot-repair outfits.
1 housewife.
3 chargals (canvas bags for water).
Map, original and copies; and enlargements from a small map.
Cardboard protractors.
"Sun compass."
Book of star charts.
Extra tea in the form of tablets.
1 aluminium "degchie" or "dixie" (cooking-pot).
1 very small adze (a carpenter's tool used in the East).
2 pocket Gillette shaving sets.
4 candles, } for giving red-light signals at
red cloth } Rendezvous X.
2 pairs of scissors.
2 iron rings, for use in the event of having to tow our kit across
an unfordable river.
1 sausage of solid meat extract.
Opium.
1 bottle of "Kola" compound.
1 lb. tapioca.
Small reel of fine steel wire.
One ½-pint bottle of brandy.
Fishing tackle.
The actual clothes to be worn on starting were left to individual
fancy. It was a question first of what one possessed; secondly, of what
one anticipated would suit the temperatures we should meet, and best
resist the wear and tear which our clothing would have to withstand.
Some decided on Indian khaki drill, others on home service serge
uniform; others again on a mixture of the two. One had a rainproof
coat cut down and converted to a tunic, which in practice was found to
answer well.
"Shorts," we knew, would be very comfortable, but unfortunately they
are a peculiarly British style of garment; so they were vetoed, at any
rate for wear by day. One or two, however, rendered their trousers
convertible to "shorts," for use during darkness, by slitting each leg
along one seam to a point above the knee, adding buttons and cutting
button-holes at the correct places to enable them to be turned up and
fastened, so as to leave the knees free. Most of us, however, preferred
not to risk the loss of any protection against cold such as this plan
involved, and eventually started off wearing trousers tied below the
knee with a piece of cord, in true navvy fashion.
It was realised that we could not hope to pass for Turks by day, so
no elaborate disguise was attempted. At night, however, a Turk's
silhouette does not much differ, except for his headgear, from that of
a European--for a Turk is not a European, even though he is allowed a
bit of European soil. We accordingly decided to wear fezes, so that
any one passing us at night would mistake us for Turks and ask no
questions. For the daytime we would hold to our original Changri scheme
of pretending to be a German survey party, and for this purpose would
carry either Homburg hats or British field-service caps.
As to the best means of taking along all this kit, opinions were most
diverse. The weary experiments which had been commenced whilst at
Changri were continued with renewed zest at Yozgad, until by a system
of trial and error each had worked his own particular idea into a more
or less practical form. Our difficulties were enhanced by the necessity
of concealing our experimental models from the eyes not only of
brother Turk, but also of brother officers, so that all our tests were
carried out in the somewhat confined space of the room cupboards. While
so situated there was the risk of finding oneself shut in for half an
hour if an officer not in the know came into the room to describe the
events of the latest fox-hunt. Eventually the equipment of our party
varied from a simple but enormous rucksack, with water-bottle slung
separately, to a rather complicated arrangement by which the pack was
balanced to some extent by biscuit-pouches, haversack, and water-bottle
attached to the belt.
In all cases the total load carried, with water-bottles filled but
chargals empty, amounted to close upon 50 lb.; of this 25¼ lb. were
food, 5 lb. water-bottle, and 12 lb. accessories and spare clothing;
and the remainder the weight of the equipment itself--in one case as
much as 8 lb.
A few notes as to the above food and equipment may be of interest. The
soft biscuits were obtained at the last moment from an officer who had
intended to decamp but was prevented from so doing by a game leg. They
took the place of 1½ lb. of a kind of sun-dried meat known locally as
"pastomar," similar to "biltong," but seasoned with garlic. This we had
bought two or three weeks previous to the date of departure, for it was
not always obtainable in the bazaar. Hence it was necessary to take it
while the chance offered, in spite of the unpleasantness of having to
keep such evil-smelling stuff in a living-room. Its taste to any one
but the garlic-loving Oriental is as disagreeable as its scent, so that
it was not altogether without relief that we found at the last moment
that most of the pastomar was already breeding maggots, and we replaced
it with the odd six biscuits apiece.
Having read during our captivity a good deal about Arctic exploration,
we had also experimented with the local pemmican, but found it would
not withstand the heat. The cheeses were from home parcels, and to save
weight were taken out of their tins on the last day. The same was also
done with the cocoa and Ovaltine, which were then carried in bags made
from handkerchiefs.
Two of the party also carried an extra pound of chocolate and some Oxo
tablets, on the understanding that they were to be thrown away if the
loads proved too heavy, for most of us felt that the last straw was
already nearly reached.
Spare clothing was left for individuals to decide for themselves, and
some carried a little thin underclothing and a "woolley" in addition to
the spare shirt and socks.
The medicines comprised quinine, aspirin, cascara sagrada, Dover's
powders, and iodine, these being supplied to us by our own doctors.
Also some arrowroot and Ovaltine in case any one had to diet himself.
We had in addition, while at Changri, managed to obtain from the
local chemist about fifteen opium pills per head. Most of us further
carried either boric powder or ointment for the feet. The vermin-proof
belts were to be more useful as a safeguard against chill than against
vermin, as in the end we on no occasion slept inside a Turkish dwelling.
With one exception, all the compasses were of the poorest description,
being of the more or less toy variety with a mirror on the back.
Changri, however, produced one of superior pattern, which we purchased
without arousing suspicion, and attempted to make more efficient with
the luminous paint off the face of an old watch, but without very
lasting success.
It is not easy to make a bag of canvas which will hold water, but by
dint of fine stitching and a special kind of beeswax, our naval leader
succeeded in producing three chargals which did yeoman service.
The map on which we were to rely was a French one, forty years old,
and on a scale of about twenty-four miles to the inch. An officer
had bought it for five pounds from a Greek dentist at Kastamoni. As
it happened it was not bought primarily for escape purposes, but we
persuaded him to sell it to us on his leaving Changri for Geddos. In
this the hill features were very indistinctly shown by vague hachuring,
and even a big river such as the Kizil Irmak was in several places
shown dotted, signifying not that this dried up during parts of the
year, but that no one had surveyed it. An up-to-date but very small
map had been received from home by means of a series of six "bananas,"
each containing a tiny section; but, owing to our change of plan, this
showed little of our proposed route.
The "sun compass" needs some explanation. This was an invention of
Captain A. B. Matthews, D.S.O., R.E., who had been a prisoner of war at
Yozgad since the fall of Kut-el-Amara. Wishing to make a rough survey
of the immediately surrounding country for the use of the Hunt Club,
and finding that local magnetic attraction made a compass altogether
unreliable, he bethought him of a simple means of utilising the sun,
which in the wonderful climate of Asia Minor is rarely obscured
throughout the spring, summer, or autumn. The "sun compass" consists
merely of a thin wooden disc of say 5 inches diameter, with the outer
edge divided into 360 degrees, and with a hole at the centre through
which can be inserted a piece of stiff straight wire. A table of the
sun's bearing at any hour on any day completes the instrument. In
actual use the disc is held horizontally, with the graduations upwards,
and the wire kept vertical and protruding above the disc. Then, by
turning the latter till the shadow of the wire falls on the sun's
bearing plus 180 degrees, you have the disc set to read off true
bearings in any direction.
Captain Matthews was also responsible for the star charts. By means
of two maps of the heavens obtained from a book on travel, published
by the Royal Geographical Society, he devised from first principles a
"bus" consisting of three concentric cardboard discs. By means of these
it was possible, almost mechanically, to read off the bearings of the
brighter stars in the main constellations for any hour and any night
of the year. It was thus possible to obtain a series of charts showing
on which star one should march for any required bearing, and at any
particular time. We prepared them for all hours of the nights from the
1st August to the 15th September 1918. This chart-book was of value
as a check on a magnetic compass by night, but assumed an elementary
knowledge of at least those constellations which would be of use for
the particular purpose in view.
Although it was expected that if we wished to evade recapture we
should have to avoid replenishing our supplies at any villages, it
was necessary to take money in case we were compelled to do so as a
last resource. For this purpose a certain amount of gold and silver
was essential: otherwise it was quite possible that, in payment for
anything in an out-of-the-way district, the paper money would be
received at its true value, namely, nothing at all. A certain amount
of paper money was, however, advisable in view of the conditions we
might expect if we were recaptured, as paper money was less likely to
be taken away from us than gold and silver. It was decided then to
start if possible with at least £2 each in gold, £30 in paper, and two
medjidies (worth four shillings each) in silver. This we succeeded in
collecting, thanks to being able to cash a few cheques locally: for
both the gold and the silver, however, it was necessary to pay five
times their face value in paper. We bought silver coins, a few at a
time, from various sentries. These men thoroughly understood our desire
for them when we hinted at a pretty girl in England who would look very
handsome with a necklace of medjidies round her neck.
While at Changri our party had succeeded in obtaining from other
officers two _pukka_ helio-mirrors, which had escaped destruction
on the fall of Kut-el-Amara. With these we had fitted up a duplex
heliograph, complete with signalling key and adjusting screws. Whereas,
however, for the Samos scheme it would have been invaluable, for
Rendezvous X its use was more problematical; and in view of the way in
which essentials had gradually mounted up, it was in the end rather
reluctantly decided that the helio must go by the board, as it weighed
about three pounds.
Another decision now made was that in our party we should not use
violence in order to make our escape, unless it should be necessary
on the coast itself to avoid throwing away a really good chance. It
was recognised that if bloodshed occurred, the Turks would be quite
capable of killing off the whole of our party, and possibly others, if
recaptured. For this reason no attempt was made to procure firearms,
though this would probably have been no more difficult than obtaining
the fezes, compasses, and field-glasses.
During the four months we were at Yozgad, Grunt, being one of the best
Turkish scholars in the camp, started a class for any who chose to
learn Turkish. About five times a week, therefore, all the original
six of our escape-party and a few others used to meet in Grunt's room
for an hour's instruction. In the case of would-be escapers, the main
attraction of these lessons was this: if any of us were recaptured,
as some were practically certain to be, it would be possible to make
oneself understood to some slight extent, and thereby perhaps alleviate
the unpleasantness of prison life by being able to let our jailers
know our wants. Since, also, to judge by the experience of those who
had been recaptured, we should, if equally unfortunate, spend several
months in the close company of some of the worst criminals in Turkey,
it would be a pity not to take the opportunity of picking up a really
good conversational knowledge of the language under exceptionally
favourable circumstances. For this a grounding in grammar would be
invaluable. Nothing else but these considerations would have induced
the majority of us to attempt so difficult a task as learning even the
rudiments of the Ottoman tongue.
As the time grew near for the great adventure, the last stage of our
training was entered upon. Every opportunity was taken of going out
hunting, although the field was limited to a total of thirty. Keenness
in hockey died off, as many of us were afraid of sustaining some injury
which might incapacitate us on the actual day. Running and hard walking
round the garden became a regular institution in some houses; and
several cupboards, if suddenly opened at almost any hour of the day and
at many in the night, would have disclosed a member of an escape-party
loaded up in the most extraordinary manner, and performing gymnastic
exercises for the strengthening of leg and shoulder muscles. In view
of the inevitable hard marching, towards the end several of the party
even went so far as to soak the feet several times a day in a strong
solution of alum, in the hope of hardening the feet and avoiding
blisters.
At the same time efforts were made to build up the stamina necessary
for a 400-mile march by eating the most nourishing foods obtainable,
irrespective of the fact that the price of any food seemed to go up as
the cube of its body-building value. To give one instance, sugar at
this time cost a sovereign the pound.
It was almost inevitable that, with so many preparations in progress,
the secret of our intentions should leak out in the camp; and once
suspicions were aroused many of our actions would go to confirm them.
Thus it came about that a few days before the 30th July, the whole of
the camp at Yozgad knew pretty well that attempts to escape were on
foot; the shopping lists for the Changri division were alone enough
to have set people talking. Everybody wanted bootlaces, straps,
hobnails, rope, &c., in prodigious quantities. Unfortunately the Turks
also appeared to have got wind of it. For the last week of July,
sentries were visited and awakened with unheard-of frequency. Even the
commandant himself occasionally visited the different houses after
dark. In the case of one house, an extra sentry was suddenly posted in
the garden.
However, our preparations went quietly on; our "hosts" might have
nothing really definite to go upon, and the more keen the sentries were
now, the more weary they would be by the time the real day arrived.
We therefore continued to make holes in walls, loosen iron bars, dig
unnecessary irrigation channels in the garden, &c., &c., all as aids to
egress from one house or another on the final night.
In the particular house of our original six, (Cochrane and Ellis lived
in another), we had come to the conclusion that our best chance was to
prepare a hole through the outer wall of the kitchen belonging to our
mess. This kitchen, it is necessary to explain, was built along the
high enclosure wall of the garden, and was separated from the house
itself by a narrow alley-way, over which one of the sentries stood
guard. Next to the kitchen in the same outhouse was a little room with
one small window opening on to the alley, the entrance being _viâ_ the
kitchen itself. This second room was used as a fowl-house, and it was
here that we made up our minds to prepare a hole three-quarters of
the way through the outer wall. How exactly those escaping from our
house were to get across into the kitchen and finish off the hole on
the final night was a problem of which the solution was only settled
in detail at the last moment, and we will therefore leave our readers
in a similar state of suspense. The essential was that all should be
present at the evening roll-call, and yet the hole must be completed
and everybody be across at precisely 9.15 P.M.
So uncertain were we of the means of effecting this that we had a
second alternative in case the first scheme could not be carried out.
This involved getting over the wall by ladders.
A day or two before the 30th July, representatives of the various
parties met once again in solemn conclave to ensure that the various
plans should not clash, and a few general instructions were issued to
parties with a view to obtaining as long a start as possible. Every
one was to be represented in bed on the night by a dummy; boots were
to be padded, likewise the ends of khud-sticks (these were a _sine qua
non_ of our equipment for night-marching); water-bottles were not to be
filled because they gurgled; every man's equipment was to be finally
tried on to make certain that it would not make any noise.
Lastly, a lamp-signal was arranged between houses in case any party
should be caught just prior to leaving their house, for instance while
completing a hole. If that signal were given, it would no longer be
necessary for the other parties to wait until 9.15 before they started;
on the contrary, they were advised to start away at once before the
alarm reached the sentries in the other houses.
The 30th July arrived, but with it an unexpected complication. Vague
news had just come through that an exchange ship was being sent out
from England to fetch some of the worst cases of sick and wounded from
among the British prisoners in Turkey. The boat, said the rumour, was
due to arrive at some port at about the end of August, and the question
therefore arose at the eleventh hour whether, if we set off now, it
might not give the Turks the pretext that our Government had informed
us of the visit of this vessel, and that we were making off in the
hopes of getting aboard her secretly. The argument was of course, on
the face of it, ridiculous, but then so is the Turk, and it would be a
terrible responsibility for us if by our escape we destroyed the hopes
of these poor sick and wounded men. A vote was therefore taken as to
whether we would postpone the date, with the result that the motion was
carried by a small majority.
This was a terrible disappointment, for it meant, we thought, another
month of indecision. Moreover, there would be no hope of finding a boat
still awaiting us at Rendezvous X, and it would be too late in the year
for much chance of our finding crops to eat or hide in. It was the
moon, however, which in the end decided that the postponement could
not be for so long. On working out its time of rising, it was found
that if we waited till the end of August the moon would only rise late
enough to let us leave our houses at 9.15, when within four days of
its disappearance. In this way we should be handicapped by having the
maximum of dark, or practically dark, nights for our journey. The whole
question was therefore revised in this new light, and it was decided
that we must either start before the new moon came or else give up
all hope of leaving in this year at all. The night 7th-8th August was
then chosen. This would be a Wednesday, and the following morning a
hunt-day, when the check taken at dawn was confused by the movements of
thirty officers dressing in haste for the day's sport.
The week's grace was spent in perfecting all our arrangements. One
refinement was to collect our own and other people's hair when cut
by an officer barber, and paste it on to the outside of a cloth bag
stuffed with rubbish or towels made up to about the size of a man's
head. These were to be the heads of our dummies. Meanwhile we were more
careful with our shopping orders, and were relieved to find suspicions
in the camp dying down.
On the morning of the 31st July an officer, who was supposed to know
nothing of the escape, had been called by his orderly and told, "They
ain't gone after all, sir!"
FOOTNOTE:
[8] The following is a list of the officers who attempted to escape,
but were unhappily all recaptured, mostly within a few days of
starting, but in the case of one party not until they had been at large
for eighteen days and covered over 200 miles: Major C. H. Stockley,
66th Punjabis; Captains C. Manners, 104th Rifles; A. B. Matthews,
D.S.O., R.E.; E. W. Burdett and C. A. Raynor, 48th Pioneers; T. R.
Wells, R.A.F.; R. O. Chamier, 110th Mahrattas; H. H. Rich, 120th
Infantry; E. T. M. Patmore, Hants Regiment, T.F.; Lieutenants Tudway,
R.N.; J. H. Brabazon, Connaught Rangers; A. V. Barlow, R.A.F.; H.
D. Stearns, I.A.R., 117th Mahrattas; A. Macfadyen, I.A.R., 110th
Mahrattas; F. S. Sheridan, I.A.R., Gurkhas; J. Dooley, I.A.R., M.T.; M.
L. C. Smith, I.A.R., 7th Rajputs.